I ordered take-out. I was so grateful that I did because the entire hour long waiting period was dreadful. The cramping began as quickly as it ever had. I sat in the chair holding my abdomen, pressing hard to make the pain go away and trying not to let on at how bad it hurt because I didn't want to alarm the children. We were watching some mindless television show on Netflix. FInally, the knock on the door. The delivery driver wanted to chat, I could tell, but I tried to not make eye contact so that I wouldn't feel bad about being short. My mind was telling me that if I didn't look at him, it wouldn't matter. I took the pizza to the kitchen, took out the cutting board and starting cutting up small pieces for the little girls. Thankful that I had ordered out tonight. Then I felt it. The drop. "Oh." I knew. I quickly asked Karigan to watch the little girls while I went into the bathroom.
I held such a small beginning in my hand. Which made up half of my palm. I couldn't make out much but it was together. Knit together. I stared and for a moment and I wondered what to do. Then I remembered that when we die our spirit goes to heaven, not our body. I finished cleaning up. Walked out of my bedroom and the feeling of an empty womb came to mind. Five souls in the family room and five in heaven.
I am so very thankful that it is happening so quickly this time. The last miscarriage that I had, my body held on to the baby for a week. It was so hard to grieve when your heart is telling your body what to do and it won't listen. You would think these losses would get easier. But honestly, I believe they get harder.
I have seen the beauty of my previous losses. The beauty and the heartache. I've known so many women who have had miscarriages and I've stood beside my best friend when she buried her daughter. We hurt differently but we all bear scars. The beauty in it is that we can relate. It's the knowing. The I've been there and I am so sorry. That's the beauty of it. It's the I understand, I really do. You feel it. The lump in your throat. The tears in your eyes. The remembering. The being able to understand and relate. I'm gifted with that.